Steamed (A Maid in LA Mystery) (15 page)

 
“When’s the last time you ate?”

 
“I had some yogurt at lunch.”

 
She tsked.  “Really, sometimes friends are more trouble than kids.  Sit down and I’ll get you dinner.”

 
“I really have to go.  I have another appointment.”

 
“Quincy, we’re friends.  You and Tiny gave me a job when I was in school and were so great about working around my schedule.  I’m enough of a friend to tell you that if you try to get behind the wheel right now, I’m calling the cops.  But after they hauled you away, I promise, I’d come bail you out.”

 
Honey might be younger than me.  I might have helped her out back when she was in school.  But she was a mom now.  And it showed.

 
I sat.

 
She fed me this awesome chicken dish and made me drink two glasses of water and then coffee. 

 
An hour and a half later, the room no longer tilted on its axis, my baby pooch was overflowing my waistband and I had to pee.

 
I was definitely sober as I left the kitchen and headed across town to The Bit Part Bar.

 
I left the kitchen knowing that Mr. Michaels hadn’t killed Mr. Banning.  He was too genuinely torn up.  And frankly, I wasn’t sure his tiny frame had enough umph to swat a fly, much less bludgeon a man of Mr. Banning’s adequate size.

 
I’d have to go home, print out a picture of Lou then put an X through it.  Yet another suspect unsuspected.

 
Maybe one of my now unsuspected suspects had really done it and my mom-senses were off.  But if I was right, I’d need to find someone else to look at.

 
I thought of all my cop show favorites.  I hit a bit of a speed-bump as I thought about
Castle
and Nathan Fillion.  If I didn’t have Cal in my life, I might have lingered on thoughts of Nathan Fillion a bit longer, but thinking of finding Mr. Banning’s murderer and getting back to kissing Cal made me push past my girl-crush on Castle.

 
Who else would want to kill poor Mr. Banning?

 
What did I know?

 
It was someone he knew well enough to let in his house.

 
It was someone big enough to actually bludgeon him.

 
That was it.

 
I’d have to go back online and do more research.

 
But first, I needed to see if the computer was at the bar.

Chapter Eleven

 
I headed to The Bit Part Bar.

 
It didn’t look merely shabby in the dark, it looked seedy.

 
For a moment, I worried about finding a parking space at eleven at night, but it turned out the parking lot was almost empty.

 
I was pretty sure that state law required bars close by two.  Last call was one thirty.

 
I’d have a couple hours to try and see if Mr. Banning’s computer was somewhere. I remembered seeing the bartender on a laptop when I’d stopped in and had my Guinness.

 
Though the bar was almost empty, I sat down at the far end of the bar.  The seat gave me a good vantage point to watch the three other drinkers in the bar.

 
The bartender came over.

 
“Guinness, wasn’t it?” he asked when he saw me.

 
“You remember me?”  I was surprised.

 
“I never forget a pretty face,” he said with a slimy leer.  “You brighten up the place.”

 
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I simply said, “Thank you.”  My mother always said, when in doubt be polite.  “And yes, a Guinness.”

 
He ambled to the other end of the bar and took his time pouring my Guinness right.  We Macs appreciate someone who can pour a Guinness well.

 
He came back and gave me what I think was supposed to be a suggestive look.  “So, you enjoyed the atmosphere of the bar, or me?”

 
“It’s convenient.  I have friends who live in the area.  Cassandra Yu?  She said her boyfriend used to come work here.”

 
That stopped him.  He studied me.  His eyes narrowed.  He leaned on the bar and bent closer.  “You know Cassandra’s boyfriend?”

 
“No.  I just know she’s been broken up because she lost him.  And she mentioned he liked to come work here.”

 
“Oh, he did.”

 
“He said the bar was an inspiration.  He was working on a project, but Cassandra said she can’t find his computer.  It’s not at her place, and it wasn’t as his.”  I called on all my Mr. Magee inspired acting skills and brightened my expression.  “By any chance did he leave it here?”

 
Willy leaned a bit further, encroaching on my personal space in a very uncomfortable way.  His expression was bordering on scary.  Suddenly he smiled.  “Why are we talking about Steve?  Let’s talk about you and me.”

 
I laughed as if he were telling me a joke.   “Thanks for the beer.  You do pour a great Guinness.”

 
“Tell you what, if you wait around a bit and when the bar clears out, I’ll see if I can find the computer in the lost and found.  You’d never believe all the things people leave behind in a bar.”

 
“Thank you.  I know Cassandra would love to have it.  There were pictures of the two of them on it that she’ll have lost forever if she doesn’t find it.”  And hoping to convince him the thought was spontaneous, I added, “I’m so glad I thought to mention it.  He always had so many nice things to say about the bar and everyone in it.”

 
Willy drew back and I felt overwhelmingly relieved that there was the barrier of distance between us.  He smiled and said, “I’ll definitely check.  You never know what someone’s put in the lost and found box.  And I have a few stories I could tell you about good old Steve.  Stories his girlfriend might want to hear.”

 
“That would be lovely.” 

 
What would be really lovely was finding the laptop and getting out of here.  Willy was an odd duck.

 
My phone buzzed in my purse.  I went fishing and found it…at the bottom.  Everything I wanted was always at the bottom of my purse.

 
It was a text from Cal. 
Where are you
?

 
Why
? I replied.

 
I’m on your porch
.

 
I’m not at home
.

 
I know that now.  Where are you?  Are you investigating?

 
I’m doing something for a friend.  I won’t be home until late.

 
My phone rang, and it was Cal.

 
I pressed the button on the top and sent the call to voicemail.

 
When the phone buzzed to tell me there was a message I picked it up.  “
Quincy, I know you’re investigating.  Don’t.  It’s dangerous.  I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

 
I hung up the phone and within seconds it buzzed again, telling me I had another voice message.  “
And if you’re not back home in the next half hour, I’m putting out an APB and bringing you down to the station for questioning.  That’s right, Quince.  I’ll have the police haul you into the station, and I’ll hold you as a material witness
.”

 
I texted him. 
Bite me.

 
It definitely wasn’t the mature response.  It wasn’t the response I’d encourage my boys to use, but it felt good.

 
Thinking of Cal biting me…tiny little love nips as we finally got together for real and I got to discover just what one of his non-chaste kisses was like kept my mind fully occupied for the next hour as I nursed my Guinness and wait for the bar to clear out.

 
Maybe Willy would have the computer, then I’d call Cal when I got home.  Well, I’d call him after I removed Tiny’s pictures.  It would be just what he needed to figure out who killed Mr. Banning.  And after he found the murderer, we’d…

 
“That’s it.  They’re all gone.”

 
I glanced at the clock.  “I figured they’d all be here until last call.”

 
“I kicked them out.”

 
“You checked the lost and found for the laptop?” I asked hopefully.

 
He held up an orange colored laptop case.  “It was here.  Someone put it in a desk drawer, probably because they knew it was Steve’s.  I didn’t know it was here.”

 
That was a lie.  It was the same laptop I’d seen Willy working on the first time I visited the bar.

 
He stared at me with an off-putting intensity. 

 
“Well, I’m relieved for Cassandra’s sake.  I’ll see to it she gets it tomorrow.” 

 
I held out my hands, expecting him to hand it to me.

 
Instead, he walked around the bar and came down to my end and sat on the barstool next to me.  “Did you know anything about what he was working on?” he asked.

 
I shook my head.  “I just know Cassandra said The Bit Part Bar was the inspiration.”

 
He set the laptop on the bar and leaned towards me again.  “He told me the same thing.  He came in here day after day and worked at that booth.”  He pointed to the last booth against the front wall.  “He’d watch me work, watch the people come in throughout the day and he’d type away.  His hands flew on the keyboard. 
Willy, I’ll be sure to mention the bar when I win my next Mortie for this
, he’d say.”

 
“That was nice,” I offered, eyeing the laptop.  I wanted nothing more than to grab it and leave.

 
“That’s what I thought.  Then one day, his ex-wife called about his daughter and her school.  Some problem with the kid’s tuition.  He went on and on, saying how much he loved her and how he hated letting her down again.  He ran out and forgot the laptop.  I was curious.  So, after he left, I started to read what he wrote.”

 
Willy’s face was red, his eyes were bugging out.  He looked furious and for the first time I wasn’t just a bit uncomfortable around the slimy bartender, I was scared.  I reached in my pocket and pushed the button that turned the volume all the way down, then turned the phone on.  I knew that the last person who’d called was Cal.  He’d left a message I’d listened to.  I tried to remember what to push in order to redial.  I prayed I did it right.  I tried to picture my voicemail screen.  The call back button was on the bottom left…I thought.

 
I pushed that area and hoped I was right.

 
Willy’s eyes were glazed as if he was back at that moment, reading Mr. Banning’s script.   They focused again, but were wild as they looked at me.  “He’d written a script about a bar.  And a bartender.”

 
“I guess you were the inspiration, Willy.  You and The Bit Part Bar.”  I was impressed I’d worked that into the conversation.  If I’d manage the redial correctly, Cal was listening.  He’d know where I was.  “It must have made you happy that you and The Bit Part Bar here would be known as his inspiration,” I added loudly just in case Cal didn’t hear me the first time.

 
“The bartender in the script was a moron.  A slimy, womanizing jerk.  He was a buffoon.  And as I read it, I realized that’s how he saw me.  Steve saw me as a creepy man who spent his days trying to pick up women and never succeeding.”

 
I thought it wise not to comment that Mr. Banning’s assessment was right on the money.   “I’m sorry.”

 
“So was he,” Willy said ominously.  “I called Sherm to cover the bar and I took the laptop to good old Steve’s house that night.  I was going to tell him that he couldn’t sell that script.  I got there and parked in front of his house.  I saw his girlfriend leave.  I waited until she was out of sight, then I walked across the grass and went to the door.

 
“Steve opened it and smiled.  He invited me and thanked me for bringing his laptop.  I realized I’d tracked in mud from the grass and took off my boots.  Steve laughed and said it was all right.  Everything was going to be all right.”

 
“But it wasn’t,” I whispered.  The footprints I’d steamed.  They were Willy’s. 

 
“No, it wasn’t all right.  Steve told me he’d had a huge fight with his ex about his daughter’s tuition and that his girlfriend had made him feel so much better. He said this new girlfriend was the one. He said he’d been married twice, and thought he’d loved another woman once.  The wives divorced him and the other woman was getting married to someone else.  Personally, I think good old Steve had too many women in his life.  But he kept telling me this new one was special.  She was different.  They’d had a couple friends over, and when the friends left, she’d made him feel better.”  Willy snorted.  “Yeah, I know what that means.  That’s why the other women who betrayed him, his wives, his daughter and the lady he’d loved who was marrying someone else didn’t bother him. He had a new woman in his bed.”

 
Willy shook his head in disgust. “If you ask me, all women are the same.”
 I wanted to assure him I wasn’t asking.  I realized the woman-getting-married that Mr. Banning had talked about had to be Tiny.  I doubted Mr. Banning had destroyed her pictures, but odds are he was that head-over-heels for Cassandra he hadn’t done anything with them.  That was good news.

 
I looked at Willy’s crazed face…it was not good news.  I hoped Cal was listening to this.  I knew I needed to get Willy to say what he’d done.  So, I asked, “What else did Steve say?”

 
“He said the script was about ready to go and he was sure it was going to be a hit.”  

 
Willy zoned out, but his expression was even scarier.  Suddenly I didn’t want to get him to confess to anything.  I just wanted to go home.

 
“I should be going, Willy,” I said.

 
I’d explain about the pictures to Cal.  He’d understand and make sure they didn’t leak.  There’s no way he’d think Tiny did it, not when whacko Willy was saying he’d gone there that night after Cassandra left.

 
I started to stand, but Willy reached across the bar and grabbed my wrist.  “No, you should hear the rest of this.  I told Steve that I’d read the script and that he had to change it.  The bartender was nothing like me.  He laughed at me.  Laughed. At. Me. And then he said that it was too late.  He’d talked to some friends about
Hanky Panky
and there was interest.  He was sure the show would put The Bit Part Bar on the map.  I screamed at him.  I told him to keep the bar, but he had to change the bartender.  I’d be a laughing stock.

 
“He laughed and said,
Calm down, Willy.  Let me get you a drink
.  And when he turned his back on me to get the drink, I took his Mortie—his precious Mortie—and I hit him.  He ran toward his bedroom then, shouting at me to cut it out. 
Change it
, I screamed. 
Change the script
.  He grabbed his cellphone off his bed and dialed.  I cornered him and hit the phone out of his hand.  Then I hit him again. And again.  And…  Next thing I knew, he was sprawled on the bed and it was obvious he was dead.  I don’t remember doing it.  I didn’t want him dead, I just wanted him to fix the script.”  He sounded positively perplexed.  He’d just wanted a script changed, so why was Mr. Banning dead?